At the Hogshead
by Joe King
Summary: What happened that fateful day that Sybill Trelawney had her job interview with Albus Dumbledore?


At the Hogshead

"A buterbeer, please, Aberforth," said a very old man with a long white beard and mustache. His eyes were twinkling merrily.

"So, what are you doing in Hogsmead, Albus?" asked the bartender, as he put down the very dirty glass he had been cleaning (with an equally dirty rag) and reached under the counter to grab his customer his drink. He looked something like his customer and had a faint smell of goats about him.

"A candidate for the Divination position. She chose your pub to host the interview," the old man said, smiling as he glanced around at the dingy place.

"Did she now? Well, hope it goes well, brother," the bartender said, handing the old man a glass of buterbeer, which the old man took, in exchange for a silver sickle and a knut.

"Thank you, Aberforth, and I hope it goes well as well, though I am not too keen on the subject. Still, it is a subject and if she is a suitable teacher, she shall have the position. I believe you have a private room at the back?" he said, gazing over his half-moon spectacles at the bartender with startlingly blue eyes. The bartender nodded and waved with his rag towards the back.

The old man walked past the tables and the few customers, none of them with their faces uncovered (the old man thought he saw a vampire among the customers drinking, of course, a bloody marry). He knocked on the door to the private room and went inside. Waiting for him was a very odd looking woman, odd mainly for the way she was dressed. She had beads and spangles galore around her neck and odd rings on her fingers. She was wearing odd clothes, a purple colored dress that just hung on her as if it were too big, and glasses that magnified her eyes to at least ten times their normal size, giving her a bug-like appearance. She had wispy hair and was drinking some of Ogden's Best Fire Whisky from a very dirty glass.

"Good Afternoon, Miss Trelawney," said the man in his deep voice.

"Good Afternoon, Professor Dumbledore," the woman said to the old man, who was, of course, non other that Professor Albus Dumbledore, currently headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the most powerful wizard around. He was wearing a set of blue robes with stars and planets embroidered into them and a pointed hat made of the same material. On anyone else, these clothes would have been called odd. On him, they looked natural. He was holding the bottle of buttterbeer in his long fingers.

"I have read your application and found it…interesting…which is why I am here, of course," he said, and his lips twitched as if too smile when he said interesting. "I will have to ask you a few questions before I know if I can give you the job or not."

"I _knew_ you would have to," Sybil Trelawney said in her misty voice, putting emphasis on the word, 'knew.'

"Yes…well, let's get on with the interview. I am, sadly, a bit pushed for time these days," said Professor Dumbledore cheerfully, though there was an under layer of sorrow and quiet urgency in his voice. "It said on your application that you are the great-great-granddaughter of Cassandra Trelawney, am I right?"

"Yes, you are correct," said Miss Trelawney in her misty voice. "The Sight usually comes every three generations. What a great burden, the sight," she said. She sighed melodramatically. Professor Dumbledore's lips twitched again.

"I am sure it is. Now, I need to ask if you can make me a prediction for me." Professor Dumbledore asked.

She lost her misty expression for a second as she gave him a sharp look. "The inner eye does not See upon command, Professor." Her voice regained its mistiness. "Though I can tell you this…there are dark and terrible times ahead for us all. Yes, danger and destruction and…ahhh, but do I say it?…death," she said, her voice even mistier. Professor Albus Dumbledore didn't smile here, nor did his eyes twinkle like they normally did. There were hard times ahead for all. Horrible times that he and a few comrades were trying to shorten, but not succeeding in their goal. But, he reminded himself, at that moment, he had an interview to conduct, not plans to come up with.

"Yes, I see. Well, can you tell me why you think you would be a good candidate for this position?"

"Yes, I shall. I was crystal gazing one day and saw standing in front of a group of young people. They were all giving me their undivided and rapt attention. I knew that I had Seen myself teaching. I do not like children, but who am I to ignore the promptings of fate? If I Saw myself holding this position, then I surely shall. I applied at once. I am a Seer, and who better to teach Divination that a Seer, a great-great-granddaughter of Seer, no less, who was the great-great-granddaughter of a Seer," her voice lost some of it's mistiness here and was infused with pride. "I shall be able to teach your students how crystal gaze, palm read, and all the other noble art of the misunderstood and undervalued subject of Divination," she finished with a dramatic flourish. Professor Dumbledore had heard enough. He was disinclined to continue divination, and there were no teachers he thought suitable for the job. Miss Trelawney's supposed sight of herself teaching sounded to him as a convenient excuse, one that he had heard from most of the other candidates. He was normally trusting, but he had had enough people try to trick him to get this position that he was a bit skeptical of it. It was a subject he disliked anyway.

"Thank you, Sybil Trelawney, but I must inform you, with regret, the Divination will no longer be taught at Hogwarts," he noticed that she had gone rigid, her eyes unfocused and her mouth slack, and decided to leave her to herself. "Good day, Miss Trelawney. I am sorry-"

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…_" a harsh voice suddenly said. He turned around quickly to look at Sybil Trelawney.

"Miss Trelawney?" he said, concerned. Her eyes started to roll.

"…_Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies_…" the harsh voice was issuing from MissTrelawney. She was, Dumbledore realized, making a real prediction. She was a true Seer, if not a very gifted one in the common arts. Suddenly, there was a commotion outside. Miss Trelawney was snapped out of her trance by the angry voices, though only half so. She was in a sort of daze, not truly aware and yet she knew what was going on.

"…I don't know what…" one man said, and Dumbledore recognized this as the voice of his brother, Aberforth, the bartender and owner of the Hogshead.

"Let go of me, you ill-mannered…" came another voice, colder and deeper. Dumbledore thought her recognized this one as well. He walked over and threw the door open.

"Snape!" he said. Snape stopped struggling and looked with fear at Dumbledore, who was clearly angry. Dumbledore knew he was being spied on by a known Death Eater, and Miss Trelawney was just giving information crucial to both sides of the war. "Aberforth, would you escort our…guest…downstairs. Please hold him there for me. Thank you very much," Dumbledore said shortly. He turned on his heels and walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. Before the door had closed, Snape had his last words.

"You filthy mudblood and muggle lover! I hope you-" just then, luckily, the door shut, so Dumbledore did hear what Snape hoped for him, though he could guess.

Miss Trelawney asked, "Why was Snape at the door? Was the trying to get tips on his own interview?" and before Dumbledore could answer, she suddenly went back into a whole trance.

"_And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…_" she said in her now harsh voice. Dumbledore was painfully aware how crucial, and dangerous, this information was.

"_And_ _either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…_" she said. Dumbledore felt pity for this boy and all he would go through. After all, he would have to destroy the most powerfully evil wizard in the world or be destroyed by him, leaving to world to it's fate at Voldemort's hands. Neither was a very promising future for a young boy, just born.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_" she said, and suddenly the trance fully lifted. She coughed slightly. "I am sorry," she said, in her again misty voice, "I didn't hear what you just said?"

Dumbledore smiled down at her. "Welcome to the Hogwarts teaching staff, professor," he said kindly.

She nodded, as if expecting it. "I knew it would be so."

"I am sorry, but I have to leave. I have urgent business to attend to. Move into Hogwarts today. I am sure Minerva McGonagall will be happy to show you about, "he smiled again. He knew she would safe at Hogwarts. Safe from Voldemort, who would want to hear this prophecy. She didn't remember giving it, at least her actions said she didn't, but Voldemort wouldn't know that. Dumbledore left, and she smiled as she sipped her whisky.

"Albus!" his brother called to him as he went to leave, so preoccupied by what the had heard he had quite forgotten about Snape. He turned around to look at this brother, who was frantic and worried. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I turned and…and he was gone! He must have apparated, I didn't think about that. What an idiot I was! Truly, I am sorry I let him get away, Albus! No wonder I didn't do too well at Hogwarts, I am an idiot. I am truly sorry!" This was more that Albus had ever heard his brother speak in one sequence.

Albus nodded distractedly and said, "It's okay," but he knew it wasn't. This made it all the more urgent that he speak to Lily and James Potter and to Frank and Alice Longbottom, both who had faced Voldemort three times and had a newborn son born at the end of July. They would need to go into hiding. Snape would surely tell Voldemort, who would go after them…they needed to be warned.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…_" he thought to himself. Well, here was a small hope at last in this abysmal war. Now he had something on which to build a plan to destroy Voldemort for good. As sorry as he was for the boy, countless lives and people would depend upon him, even unknowingly. He had found hope from Trelawney's mouth. He smiled, a truly happy smile with twinkling eyes, and thought, '_I have found hope for the world I found Hope at the Hogshead.'_


End file.
